


Don’t want to mess with my family.

by Bleach_ed_Na_tsu



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Grown Up Characters, KHR!Family, KHR!Mafia, family over all, lambo is independant, mafia!Centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28017531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bleach_ed_Na_tsu/pseuds/Bleach_ed_Na_tsu
Summary: You don’t want to mess with me, because if you mess with me you’re messing with my family.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	Don’t want to mess with my family.

**Author's Note:**

> So it’s been an incredibly long time since I uploaded, and I just wanted to let you know that I’m alive, and also trying to find the passion I used to have for writing. To try and coax it back SkyGem and I are going old school. (Or I’m trying to convince her to).
> 
> A Same-summary challenge! So please enjoy, and please don’t pressure her to write her own, nothing kills creativity like nagging.

Light bounced off the metal table to the left and the buzzing of the AC was beginning to get annoying. A young man with thick, wild hair, and chains around his neck sat against the wall. He was battered and bruised, with a ruffled, stained shirt and ripped pants. He was missing a shoe and his arms were tied behind his back, being pinned to the wall by the chair he was sat in. 

Licking his lips to wet them, Lambo sat with his head bowed. His lip was split and blood was dripping from his chin onto his shirt which was spotted with reds and browns. His eye was starting to swell shut from a smash he took to the face when he was grabbed. While Lambo frowned down at the flood staining his shirt, he couldn’t quite stop the grimace at the thought of how Kyouya would react to the blood. While a majority of it was not his, and he had taken out three times as many enemies as he had lost, Lambo knew it was a poor argument. After all, with only one minder at the time, taking out five men wasn't saying a lot, but Kyouya would be proud nonetheless. He still lamented the fact that the ruined shirt was one of his favorites, palest of purple with thin stripes of black. Someone had bought it for his birthday only a little while ago, and now he wasn't sure if it was going to be able to be cleaned up properly. 

He shifted his shoulders trying to relieve the pressure from his awkwardly bound wrists. The Men who had grabbed him really weren't up to par - even Kyouya with his brutal, animalistic tendencies knew that properly binding someone's wrists shouldn't involve pain in the shoulder or to the spine, but as Lambos oldest family members would say, nobody is quite as quality as they were. The young man smirked thinking of the Varia and what they would think of this whole situation. He really wished that Bel was here right now, he always had an inappropriately timed joke in the worst of situations.

Lambo's head slammed against the wall behind him and the stinging sensation in his face intensified as a hand crossed his cheek.

"If you keep smirking like that I'm going to cut your lips right from your face and probably remove your tongue at the same time for good measure." 

Lambo just frowned instead, not really sure what the best course of action was in the situation. He had been trained, of course, since he was five years old and had first met Tsuna, what to do if strangers talked to him, and later what to do with strangers that actually captured him, especially once Tsuna's part in the family became much more direct. His brother would probably tell him to just wait it out, stay quiet, and try to figure out who exactly these men were. After all, everybody had a motive, and depending on what that motive was Lambo could uncover something by listening. Something that his brothers would need to handle right away. However, Lambo didn't get the feeling that these men actually knew who he was. They weren't afraid of him; they weren't really curious about him either; and they certainly hadn't made any demands. Usually, in the times that Lambo had been captured before, his captors always knew who he was; wanted information about his family and were always very clear that they'd already made demands from his brothers for his safe return. In general, they never roughed him up that much. He was still young, and because of fear of his family people didn't want the repercussions when he was returned injured, in any way, so for him to be sitting here, beaten and bloody, well Lambo couldn’t believe that these men knew who his family was at all.

Lambo had just been out in town with his minder, it was almost Tsuna's birthday, and while he could have ordered anything online there was a specific store in town that his sky had mentioned he really liked. It was a local woodworker who used reclaimed wood and Native species to create some beautiful pieces of work

And since Tsuna’s desk in his office back in Japan was in great need of repair, Lambo thought it the perfect opportunity to replace it. He'd even found some native wood from Namimori. The design was perfect; a beautiful, dark wood desk, twice the size and carved with some of the sky’s favourite memories and achievements; the artist was even going to keep it Live Edge and create a scene of the sky in resin. Of course just as Lambo and his minder were leaving and on their way back to the mansion he was snagged.

The fight was short-lived, so Lambo didn't have time to call out his Flames before his minder was down and he was fighting on his own. One of the things that Xanxus always told him was that if he was alone he shouldn't rely on his flames in a public place - it created too much chaos and people would either avoid him, trample him, or give his enemy time to move. Besides that, if the people trying to capture him didn't know who he was they certainly would after using his flames- and that put him in far more danger. 

So relying on the training from Lussuria, Ryohei, and Kyouya, Lambo did his absolute best to get away from the area. Part of the reason the shirt was so stained was that he had taken out five of their men in messy, desperate moves. He wasn't sure if they were dead but he certainly didn't give them much chance to live. It was better that he got back to the mansion than worry about making sure the people were dead; it didn't matter anyway, he'd made his bones years ago. It was most important he got back to his family. Of course, he was outnumbered, at 14 he wasn't much of a heavyweight and when five men piled on top of him, he didn't have much chance. The scuffle had ended with what he was pretty sure was a broken nose, a split lip, and probably a minor concussion- that was hours ago though, and so far all that had happened was he had been smacked around and strapped to a chair. Lambo knew that quite a few hours had passed but weren’t sure if it was the next day yet. Then again, in a room with no windows, it was hard to tell. In all those hours, Lambo hadn’t seen this man before, he looked more serious and was the first one to actually acknowledge him, so Lambo took extra care to detail him. To take in as much detail as possible for when he was rescued.

There was the glint of a ring on his finger meaning that he was probably the boss, but it wasn't swirling with the inherent fire of a flame user so Lambo couldn't be sure that this person was in the Book of Famiglia and Crests that everyone, children included, were made to memorise. If he wasn't in the book then Lambo argued that he couldn't be expected to know him. He was very handsome though; tall, Italian if not with some foreign blood, and he had dark hair and dark eyes. His complexion was darker than anyone Lambo had ever seen before, especially for a european. But he could have been born in Italy to immigrant parents. He also looked like he worked out so if he was a boss he wasn't one that just had behind a desk. Tattoos crept up his neck and some on the back of his right hand but other than that and in his long-sleeve shirt and slacks, Lambo couldn't see any defining features. Even his accent didn't give anything away - he spoke Italian well in a very smooth manner and the other men who came in and out of the room when Lambo was sitting didn't speak, so they weren't giving anything away. Not where they were from or what they wanted.

"Well I can't say that you're men have been exactly hospitable while I've been here, I got to ask you since you seem to be in charge here what you want with me? I mean you can't want much with a 14-year-old." 

The man blinked as if confused that Lambo would even say anything in his position let alone be snarky, but he sighed and began twirling something in his fingers and when he stepped closer Lambo saw that it was a blade. Double-sided with a floral hilt and glittering with some sort of golden residue, while the golden residue sparked some remembrance Lambo really wasn't sure what the double-sided blade meant. The blade definitely meant something; you didn't just buy something like that for fun - it was a signature.

"Now now, considering your position you seem awfully confident. Ya used to being captured or something, boy? After all, I don't know a single 14-year-old that has the audacity ta’ speak as you do after being smacked around by my boys." 

Lambo arched an eyebrow but otherwise didn't give away the fact that he was mad at himself for giving himself away so easily, Chrome always said that he should use whatever he could to his advantage including his age but it was a little late at that point so he just came out with it. Lambo looked the man in his eyes and spoke clearly and confidently, "S what if I am, what does it mean to you?" He looked the man up and down, "You seem to be the Boss around here, so I call on mafia honour and open parlay with you; we can discuss this like men. No need to rough me up, no need for me to struggle or make things difficult for you. What do you say?" 

All around him laughter rained down, Lambo hadn't really known or realized how many people were in the room with him but it seemed like they were in all corners, curious about how he was speaking and why. Even the man in front of him, the boss, seemed to find it so humorous that Lambo was speaking of such. 

"Ha," the man's laugh was loud and forced, "as if a child would understand what Mafia Honour was - you're not even old enough for recruitment! What makes you think I believe you know anything about honour and parlay?" The man spit at Lambo, his warm, frothy saliva sliding over Lambos eyebrow and into his swollen eye. "So no I'm not going to parlay with you." 

Lambos heart started racing, parlay was one of the only things that mafia families seemed to honour past Omerta, if this man was not going to Parlay with him he wasn't sure really what to do - but he wasn't going to let them know that. 

"If you won't parlay, then maybe you'll just let me know who you are and why you want me."

The man scoffed again, he seemed to do that an awful lot, before he rolled his eyes as if Lambo was the most ignorant, most naive person he'd ever come across.

"You might not know anything, but let me tell you this. I think you're from a rich family - not only were you walking around Parma as if you fucking owned the place, but you're wearing custom made clothing and Versache shoes, so I figure you have a mommy or a daddy who'd be willing to pay right out the nose to have you returned home. Failing that, well, I think you would fetch quite a bit on the black market, after all, you're 14." he mocked, laughing. 

Now Lambo's stomach dropped, heat rushing through his skin, it was quite evident that the men and this famiglia weren't from this area, everybody knew who Lambo was in the dark world, and they knew that Parma town was under Vongola jurisdiction. In general, depending on what area of the mafia you were from, everyone recognized Lambo as a guardian and though his ring was hidden by illusion at all times while he was out and about -to protect himself- it was hard to mask the marks on his face or the colour of his eyes and the way they Kaleidoscoped when he was emotional. As it was they were swirling like green galaxies showing his Heritage and control over the Bazooka now even without the Bazooka itself. 

He was absolutely sure he would fetch a fair price in the market, young boys in the mafia market always did; Tsuna lost control over his flames many times when dealing with children being sold, and he tried to protect as many children in the mafia from traffic as possible. The problem was that Lambo would fetch more money than this man could even imagine because he was a guardian; because he was Vongola Lightning, and even if these men didn't know it somebody else definitely would - and they would do anything to catch the price that Tsuna would pay to get him back. He needed to get out of here and he needed to get away from these men before anything else happened. 

Rolling shoulders and squaring his hips Lambo watched the man in front of him. Lambo took a deep breath, he didn't like doing this because he was vulnerable, but he didn't have much of a choice. He needed out of here and needed a way to send a signal to his Familia so they could find him. He was born with lightning flames; he was a guardian in his own right; part of the 10th Generation. He was not about to let himself be carted off to an auction house and be used against his brothers and sisters and his sky that was like a father to him. He'd been trained for this, he knew what to do and he was ever so glad that Tsuna had insisted that they all got matching symbols once they had been instated as the reigning Vongola Generation. 

"Yare yare, you won't parlay with me. You won't even tell me who you are, and you're definitely not of the caliber that I'm willing to bow to. So I'm going to give you one chance - or I should say one last chance." 

Everyone in the room laughed again, uproarious, grating laughter. Disgusting laughter, the kind of laughter that somebody made when they felt power over you; when they took pride in that power. When they wanted to use that power against you and do awful things to you. The boss, spurred by the power his men's laughter gave him, spun his knife again, looked at Lambo, looked around at his men, and slashed. Lambo reeled back, unable to get far because of the wall behind his chair, he felt the knife slice from ear to Chin, and then again quickly before he could look up, past his eyebrow. 

At that moment, he knew who this was. Like his memory was punishing him for not recognizing the man immediately. This famiglia was from Northern Italy so far north it was almost out of Italy. How Lambo didn't recognize the accent he didn’t know. This was Don Andreas; an upstart family that was maybe 10 years old and had since created a Sigil and just gained enough notoriety to be known in the book of famiglia about a year ago. Which was why Lambo didn't know them too well. They were known for their floral Weaponry design, and dual bladed or double-ended weaponry whenever possible. Weapons were covered in a glittering, golden hallucinogenic; they were a drug family more than anything, and as far as Lambo knew they were not on the flame registry. The Don had potential as most did, but no training and no Familia would take them under their wing to train them for themselves as a branch. 

Now with blood pouring down his face and pain radiating through his cheeks, Lambo really didn't have much choice, he had no choice because, soon enough, even with his Flames battling against it, he would not have the energy to fight the drugs. 

"I gave you a warning and now you've left me no choice, you do not want to mess with my family and they are coming. You can leave now and get all of your men out of here before they arrive cuz they will rain Hellfire on you. And if you doubt me check my shoulder I'm sure you'll see what I mean."

The men around him cackled, pleased to see the blood pouring down the young boy's face and humoured by the fact that he thought he could out talk their boss. But the Boss paused, seeming to take in Lambo's looks, taking his age, thinking about where he was and Lambo could see his eyes widen just a fraction. Lambo knew that his eyes were Kaleidoscopic, practically glowing with the flames in his blood, especially now that there were drugs in his system and panic in his brain. 

Without thought, the boss lashed his knife across Lambo's right shoulder, and as the blood poured out and the fabric dropped from Lambo’s shoulder it revealed the tattoo symbol of his status. The Decimo symbol surrounded by lightning bolts.

Each Guardian had one, as did each member of the family. The only difference being that the guardians’ symbols were embellished with their element. Regardless, it was self-evident and everybody in the mafia knew it. Like everybody recognized the kings and queens of the country so to did the Mafia know their Handlers, know who ruled them all, and know who they owed their lives to. Lambo wasn't sure if it was the drugs or his famiglia’s arrival making the walls shimmer and he wasn't sure if his own flames were beginning to lick the walls but he laughed. Laughed through the pain and ignored his enemies as he locked eyes with the man before him, the boss Don Andreas, and the man looked scared. 

"You don't want to mess with me, you don't want to mess with me, cuz when you mess with me you're messing with my family." Lambo chanted, sure that his family was coming, sure that he was in the right, sure that this man was going to suffer for the scars on Lambos face, for ruining his favourite shirt, and for daring to take one of his Sky’s own. 


End file.
